The Tide Rises
by Blade Prophecy
Summary: [Finnick Odair Fan-Fiction] The sixty seventh Hunger Games is upon the districts and Panem is seething with Rebellion - With the ocean in her heart, Evelyn Barnes must find the strength to rise the tide and survieve the coming storm to keep those she holds dear close to her.
1. Chapter 1

The light pours through the cracks of my curtains, rousing me from my uneasy slumber. I couldn't account for much sleep, three hours perhaps? I look over to the digitalised clock at my bedside, the numbers 5:32 flashing in my face mockingly, teasing me that time was running out. It was only a few hours until the reaping for the sixty seventh Hunger Games is scheduled to begin.

I felt betrayed by the light, I felt the reality hit me that I had woken to a nightmare. _The odds are never in our favour_.

I don't bother trying to fall back to sleep again, I have enough experience with the reaping to know that it's impossible, however, on the off chance that you do catch a wink of sleep, it's flooded with the horrors of the games.

I hoist myself off the warm mattress and hunt for some comfortable clothing, I might just as well spend as much time as possible in the comfort of a pair of trousers and a lightweight teeshirt before the reaping begins when I'll be forced into a dress.

I try pulling my wavy locks into a ponytail, but the small pieces around my face refuse to be tamed, so I leave them. I have more important things to think about than the state of my hair.

Once my boots are comfortably on my feet, I soundlessly tiptoe my way downstairs and out of the front door.

There's no doubt that my parents will be awake, they're just as worried on reaping day as I am. Most parent are. Though in our house the games aren't dared to be talked about, because of my younger brother, Charlie.

Charlie is as sweet as seven year olds come, he's sinless and pure. His hazel eyes are crystal hazelnuts, wide spaced and curious about everything. His biggest worries are how he's going to present his next magic trick. He wants to be a magician when he's older, and maybe he will become the first magician in District Four, if the odds are in his favour.

Outside is undisturbed, like a ghost town, no one goes out on reaping day. Most stay securely inside, spending what could be the final mornings with their loved ones.

District Four is a place of peace and tranquility when The Hunger Games aren't contaminating our television screens. It is definitely one of the more beautiful districts. The waves of water sparkle under the sun and stars alike, the crystal blue is endless, like the wandering thoughts and escapism. I love the water, it's a subdue place I can run to in times of desperation. The glittering crystal always seems to calm my anxieties.

"Whatcha doing out here all on your own, Evelyn?"

The sudden voice shocks me, making me sharply turn my head to look at the subject in question, though I relax at the sight of my best friend, Joshua Nicholls.

"Can't sleep" I clarify, though I'm sure he knows that already deep down.

"Me neither, but I figured you'd be here, so I came" He tells me sheepishly, looking down as he runs a hand through his short blonde hair, refreshing the style he had made earlier this morning.

His slight embarrassment makes me smile. If there's anyone that can make me smile, it's Josh. The Hunger Games is like Satan's word in a church in my house, but outside by the crashing waves, Josh and I will rant for hours about our abhorrence and hatred of President Snow, the citizens of the Capitol and their sick idea of entertainment.

Most would be disgusted by our hatred of the games because District Four is a career district, meaning most of us have been training for the games illegally since we were able to walk. I didn't escape this wrath, I was pushed into training at the age of five by my father, 'just in case' he would always say.

"You're nearly out, Joshy. This is your last one" I say.

He nods, but his expression is still grim. "I know, but anything can happen... After Odair's victory two years ago less and less people seem to be volunteering here" he observes, and I don't want to believe it, but it's true... No one volunteered at all last year.

"Come on, Eve. Let's go to the rocks" He changes the topic, making me nod in agreement.

As we walk, Josh stuffs his hands in his pockets. He's attractive, there's no doubt about that, no one could resist the sea blue of his eyes and the way the corners of his lips shift upwards to a smirk. He rarely smiles, unless he's with me and the water, or his family, the ones he holds close. Not many people get to see last his illusion of arrogance, his 'I'm above everyone here' facade. I think he would make a good career, I don't have the heart to ever tell him this though. Soon enough, we approach the rocks and we climb until we come to one high enough that we can sit on and dangle out legs over the rippling waves of the river.

"So Eve, we haven't had a spar in a while, well have to whip out the swords when the reaping is over" He says, lightly grinning.

"I've done my fair share of training, besides, I'm sure Corina would be happy enough to take my place"

"She's not as good as you"

"No, but she does have the hots for you"

"Who doesn't have the hots for me? Let's be honest here, I'm fabulous"

"I don't have the hots for you..l you are fabulous though, Ill give you that"

"Pfft, don't tell my dad that, he wants me to ask for your hand in marriage one day"

My heart pauses for a second, and I curse the sudden falter in my speech as the air gets trapped in my throat. I look down at the water, catching my reflection in the clearness of the water, my green eyes staring right back.

"We're too young. Besides I don't love you like that"

"You don't love me?"

"I do love you, but I'm not in love with you" I clarify, I don't look at him, but I see him look off in the opposite direction from the reflection of the water, and I can't help but notice the twitching at the corner of lips as they turned up slightly. There was something he wasn't telling me...

"Love doesn't matter anymore, Evelyn. You want the peaches and the cream but you don't even get the peaches. If love existed, The Hunger Games wouldn't"

He had a point, "I suppose so"

The carefree atmosphere is suddenly shattered when I enter through the front door of my house a few hours later, so I decide to avoid all conversation by dashing upstairs to my bedroom.

On my bed is a perfectly laid out dress. The dress is as black as the night sky, and along the middle is a navy blue belt that ties into a big bow at the side. On my bedside is a box that contains a pair of black heels and a necklace. The necklace is a baby blue crystallised stone that emulates the sea.

I pick up the clothes and make my way to the bathroom at the end of the hall.

The water in the shower is warm, but I only have twenty minutes before the water will turn stone cold. I take my chances though, savouring every second, as if it is going to delay the reaping.

Once I am deprived of the soothing warmth that eased my bones, I got changed into the clothes that my mother had left out for me. Last year I wore a dark emerald dress. Dark dresses seem to the the following theme, perhaps it was my mothers way of defying the Capitol, not conforming to their bright colour schemes.

The kitchen has an eerie sense, my mother is making breakfast and my father is reading the morning newspaper, his crestfallen eyes weren't following any worlds, only staring at the title that reminded him the reaping was upon us.

"Where did you go this morning, dear?" My mother asks as she places a bowl of cereal before me. I'm not hungry and I have a horrible feeling that if I eat, it won't be long before all comes back up.

"I went to the rocks with Josh" I tell her simply, making her smile as if a thought or memory crossed her mind.

"That reminds me actually, you'll have to go and catch us some fish, John. Your catches are always the best" my mother says, smiling directly at my father. He looks up and smiles back.

"They're only the best because of the way you cook them"

I watch my parents, the way they look at each other, _they got the peaches and the cream._

"Welcome, welcome! Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls" District Four's escort, Flora Leigh beams at the gathering crowds at the town square. This is the only part of District Four I despise.

My expectations of Flora's appearance isn't faltered. She looks just as ridiculous and our of place as she did last year. This year shes wearing a tight pastel purple corset with what looks like tissue paper for a skirt, the tissue paper- like fabric only just about the covers of the tops of her thoughts in the rainbow coloured sections.

Behind her, the two previous victors of District Four sit either side of the mayor. Mags is the oldest victor alive today and despite her beaten down features, she looks incredibly good for her age, though it is rumoured that she has a speaking impairment, I'm not too sure I believe that. Beside the sweet old lady is Finnick Odair, the youngest tribute to ever win the games at fourteen. He's sixteen now, like me. But age seems to be the only thing me and Odair share in common, because like Mags, Finnick has rumours, his being the slightly more severe. He's charming, though and I'm memorised by the way he scans over the crowd, a gorgeous smile on his lips. His eyes are unfocused though, and it makes me wonder what really goes on behind his closed doors - other than the rumoured activities.

As the girls gather on the left side around me, the boys gather on the right. I look around, trying to catch a glimpse of Josh, but there is not a chance of spotting him now, with each second, I'm getting more and more claustrophobic.

"Welcome!" Flora repeats, "Welcome to the reaping for the sixty seventh annual Hunger Games! Isn't this exciting? I can't wait to see out two fresh faced tributes this year, we might be in for a win! Anyway, let's hop to it, shall we? As always, it's ladies first!"

She totters to the left side of the stage, her heels clicking loudly like the ticking of time, wishing some poor souls life away.

She dips her hand into the bowl, and all I could feel was my heart twisting painfully with each flick of her wrist. Once she picks out a little slip, she totters back over to the microphone and opens the folds.

"And our female tribute is... Evelyn Barnes!"


	2. Chapter 2

Once when I was younger, I was swimming in the sea when a gigantic wave washed over my head, I remember feeling dizzy to the extent that I might faint, and when Josh finally pulled me out the water, I was exhaling sharply, trying to compose myself. That is how I felt now, my name was like the wave that overpowered me all those years ago.

"Evelyn Barnes?" Flora repeats, and I regain back to my senses. I slowly make my way out of the crowd of girls that surround me and reach the centre that will lead me to the stage.

"Come on girl, we haven't got all day" a peace keeper snarls, shoving my shoulder to quicken my pace.

Before I know it, I'm standing on stage. I avoid eye contact with anyone, instead I look over the District, taking everything in... This might be the last time I see District Four.

The only thing that reminds me that this isn't a horrible nightmare, it the metallic taste of my own blood running over my tongue from biting the inside of my cheek too hard. There's no time to cry or react, and I didn't realise how long I had been spaced out until Flora's voice breaks the uneasy silence once more.

"And our male tribute is... Michael Bateman"

A young boy steps forward from the line of boys that are aged twelve. I can hear some downcast murmuring, there always is when a young one is reaped. Being young in itself is an unfair disadvantage.

As the boy trembles forward, a bigger voice interviews from the row of eighteen year olds.

"I volunteer as tribute!"

The boy is strong, brown hair and striking blue eyes that contradict the beautiful blue I'm used to of the water, they're electric and lethal. He struts to the stage, and kisses the back of Flora's hand when she extends it to bring him to the centre of the stage beside me.

"What's your name, dear?" She asks,

"Dylan Bay" his voice is full of confidence, his glass is definitely half full which contradicts me, my glass is half empty.

"Oh how charming, well. These are out two victors, looks like we're in for a chance this year. Go on, shake hands you two"

He extends his hand first and I take it unwillingly, he kisses the back of my hand like he had done to Flora in attempt to flatter me. I meet his gaze and he sends a wink. It's that wink that switches my brain in focus. Charming and flattering to spellbound his enemies, making it easier to manipulate them in the arena.

I smile back at him, it's bitter sweet, but I much doubt the Capitol will notice. The Capitol will be too busy betting who's going to slaughter who first.

"Wonderful! Now then, let's get moving. We have a tight schedule"

The crowd breaks into applaud as I'm lead off the stage by the same tough peace keeper from before. I want to kick and scream, fight against the iron grip on my upper arm, though I stay silent. I finally begin to understand the saying - a persons silence is their loudest scream.

I'm pushed into one of the back rooms, and it must be one of the most expensive rooms I've ever been in, which is strange really because I always considered District Four luxurious. The curtains are lavender velvet and soft that compliments the plush cream sofa beneath the window. I'm mesmerised by the room, but I was soon interrupted as the door burst open, my mother instantly running into my arms, her delicate hand running through my hair.

"Oh Evelyn..." She whispers, trying to make words, but she's speechless.

"I'm fine, I'll be fine" I try to reassure, my arms wrapping around her small frame.

"Yes, you are. You're fine, and you're going to be amazing, you'll make it out alive, I know it." My father voice comes from the doorway, I look at him over my mothers shoulder as he approaches.

My mother hesitantly lets go so I can embrace my father, I hold him close until I hear the innocence of Charlie perk from the cream sofa.

"Where are you going, Evelie?" His words are spoken with such purity, his high toned voice almost throws me off.

I let go of my father and kneel in front of Charlie. "I'm going to the Capitol... I'm a tribute for the Hunger Games" I tell him, I could break down there and then, and I'm on the verge of it, the only thing stopping me from breaking down is Charlie's eyes, full of wonder and curiosity.

"What's the Hunger Games?" He asks,

"It's like the board games we play at home" I lie through my teeth, and it stabs a sharp pain inside me for it, but when it boils down to it, I'd rather tell him pretty lies than the ugly truth, at least for a little while.

"Then you better win, Evelie!" He grins, wrapping his small arms around my neck, hugging me. I pick him up, holding him against my body as I hug him tightly, my eyes tight shut to stop the tears from falling.

"I'll try, Charlie. I promise" as the final word escaped my lips, Charlie is torn from me by the peace keeper.

"Times up!" He demands.

"We love you Evelyn - Good Luck-!"

Slam. The door shuts aggressively, isolating me away from everyone I hold dear, I'll probably never see them again and the very thought finally pushes me over the edge as a single tear slides down my cheek.

I promised Charlie I would try to win, and that isn't going to change, but the odds of me actually getting out throws everything into distortion.

As I stand, wallowing in self pity, the door knob twists again, and I brace myself to impact of the rough peacekeeper to come and grab my arm, but to my upmost relief, it is Josh.

He is unreadable, poker faced and I'm pretty sure he's hiding his emotion for my benefit, so I'm certainly not complaining. He pulls me into a hug, his strong arms embracing my waist.

"Listen to me, Evelyn. You can do this. Do whatever you have to... Join the career pack, you know how to fight and that male tribute, Dylan, is as dumb as a back of rocks, he's in my year at school, you can easily manipulate him- "

"What am I supposed to do, Josh. How am I supposed to kill these people?"

He's stunned to a silence momentarily. "You'll figure it out... You're smarter than you look"

He presses his forehead against mine, "Seriously Evelyn... We need you... I need you"

"I promise I'll try" I mutter,

"That's my girl" he replies, pressing a kiss to my forehead.

"HEY! I said times up!" The peacekeeper barges in,

"I'll see you soon Evelyn, okay?" And the door slams once again, leaving me to wander in my thoughts and drown in self pity once more, though I feel a ray of hope, it's dimly lit, but a spark can start a rebellion.

Seconds later, the peacekeeper returns and grabs my arm, shoving me from the room, as I look to my left I see Josh, he had a red mark on his cheek, but he's smiling as I come into view.

And that's the last thing I see before I'm forced onto the silver train.

* * *  
"You two are in for a treat, there's no better place than the Capitol" Flora announces as we sit in the dining room at the mahogany table, at first I had been fascinated by the luxurious items the carriage is filled with, but it all soon deteriorates as Flora began ranting about various things I didn't care to listen about like the latest trends in the Capitol - as if a bit of hair dye is going to help the odds of my life being saved, the more I think about it, the hair dye might get me killed, the colour could attract my enemies.

The feeling in my palm begins to numb. I had been sat with my cheek rested in my hand, elbow propped on the table the entire time Flora had been talking. I hoped not every Capitol person was like this - her stupid accent was beginning to agitate me, though I had a horrible feeling they would all be like her.

Then, like my knight in shining amour, Finnick Odair enters the carriage, stopping Flora mid sentence.

"Don't overpower them with information, Flora. Give them time to adjust" he remarked, causing crimson to rise her cheeks.

"Finnick. How wonderful to see you, darling. I didn't get chance to speak to you before the reaping. We must catch up-"

"Can I see an Evelyn Barnes please. I am her mentor" it's not so much of a question, more of a command as his eyes directing to me.

"What about Mags?" I enquire, part of me hoped I would have Finnick as a mentor, though a bigger part of me hoped I would have the sweet old lady, there was something about Finnick I didn't like, perhaps it was the lack of trust... He seemed to be full of secrets, and there were a lot of rumours about him around the District, it was partly confirmed when Flora became all flustered at the sight of him. Maybe I judge too quick.

"Mags is primarily Dylan's mentor, though she won't mind if have any questions for her" he responded, it wasn't exactly the answer I wanted, but it would do,"Now come on, princess. We need to have a talk before the parades"

I do as I'm told and stand from the chair, following Finnick out of the carriage.

I feel like an inconvenient in his presence, and for a moment or two, he treats me that way, he speaks no words but only walks the halls as if he had done it thousands of times before. When we finally reach our destination, he shuts the sliding doors behind me before sitting on the plush cream sofa like the one in our District backstage the reaping stage.

"You can sit down, Evie" he chuckles, causing my pale cheeks to tinge pink.

"No one has called me that before" I say as I slid onto the sofa, but I sit as far as I can get to the edge, keeping my distance from Finnick, who chuckles again.

"You're kidding, right? Your name is Evelyn and no one calls you Evie?"

"No"

"Then I guess that makes me special"

"That's one way to put it" I try to sound teasing, but all humour has been drowned, a flood of fear replacing it.

He scoffs, "You're not in a good mood, are you?"

I take a sharp intake of breath as I advert my gaze, locking our stares. "No, I'm not in a good mood. I've been pulled away from my friends, family and District to participate in some stupid games where I'm going to die"

"You're not going to die"

"How can you be sure of that?"

"Because I'm looking out for you"

I look at him once again, "What does that prove?"

"As mentor, it's my job to make sure you come out alive, and that's what I intend to do. You do everything you can to get sponsors before the games and I'll continue while you're in there, I have some connections in the Capitol. Besides, you probably have most of the skill on your own, if you've trained before?"

"Well... Yeah but-"

"So we'll work on it. I'll get you through this, okay? It's what I'm here for"

Its the first time that I've ever seen Finnick look so sincere, his eyes aren't clear, but I trust that he's telling the truth for the most part, or maybe he's not, in such a vulnerable place, I have no choice but to trust him either way, and I suppose that's good enough for me, he's my only hope, and hope is the only thing stronger than fear.


	3. Chapter 3

I grit my teeth as another piece of fabric is ripped from the surface of my legs, I'm sure I heard the prep team call it 'waxing,' apparently it's another way to remove hair from your body, though I'm sure it's more of a torture method. I always thought that my appearance was okay, I shaved my legs with soap and a razor every now and then and I regularly wash in the soothing heat of the shower – but apparently that isn't enough to avert me away from 'waxing'.

"Sorry, doll." The lady, Vibia Galloway says as she tears another strip from my body, I'm sure she isn't sorry, if she had any sympathy in her heart she wouldn't be ripping away my skin and causing me to reach my pain tolerance levels, I'm edging to going over that point, but I refuse to show any signs of hurt, these people are going to be judging me enough in the arena.

"We're nearly done now, doll" Why do capitol people talk in such a high register? I don't like the way their sentences go up as they ask me questions and the way they always hiss on the letter S, why does she keep calling me doll? It becomes clear to me now why it's so difficult to mimic a Capitol accent, they're like snakes, disguised by the orange fakery that covers their faces.

I've been in the remake room – as they call it, for over an hour already. My body is aching but I refuse to show even an inch of pain, with each wince I shut my eyes tight to hold back any tears threatening to expose weakness.

As well as being waxed, I've been washed, not a space of my body has gone uncleansed. My nails have been scrapped of all dirt and the baby hairs and split ends have been sliced away.

"You've been excellent, Evelyn. There's nothing worse than a weakling" remarks Silka, she's the more unpleasant one of the three, her hair is shimmering sliver, and her eyes are so blue I'm beginning wonder how real they are.

"Yes, you've been great! Good news doll, this is the last strip!" Vibia exclaims, and I grip the sheets for impact once more.

"Come on ladies, Otto will be waiting!" Nitya calls. I like Nitya more than the others, she isn't quite so bizarre, her strawberry blonde hair is pulled into a bun at the back of her head, and though her eyeliner is sparkling black, she doesn't wear so much, reflecting her natural beauty.

"Good timing, we've just finished" Vibia says, though my stress isn't lessened any. I still haven't seen the state of my hair and makeup, and the dress is yet to be revealed when I meet the head stylist – Otto.

"Hello, Evelyn. I'm your stylist, Otto" I whip my head around to meet the gaze of a very handsome man. He looks to be in his mid-twenties, with dark brown skin and a strong build.

He wears make up like my prep team, but like Nitya, he doesn't wear too much. His eyes are irises are golden which contrast his white shirt that it unbuttoned at the top and black trousers. He's professional and handsome, I'd never seen anyone look as down to earth as him since being in the remake building.

"Hi, Otto" I reply shyly, shaking his outstretched hand.

"So, I was thinking about the parades and the interviews and I think we'll go light and sweet for the interviews and go a bit bolder and darker for the parades so you stand out." He explains, so I simply listen, nodding when required.

He then pulls over a dress and looks at me expectantly,

"What?" I question, confused.

"How am I supposed to dress you if you're still in your robe?"

I can feel my cheeks flush slightly, gripping the fabric a little tighter and pulling it around my body, concealing myself away.

"Trust me. I'm your stylist and there's no cameras in here, it's just you and me. Besides, women aren't really my thing, However, your district partner, Dylan? He's quite the looker – isn't he?" He says, a certain glint in his eye that makes me smile slightly.

I smile slightly, "I guess he is."

I finally cave in and let Otto help me into the ball gown, and once I'm fully fitted, I am stood in front of a mirror, a more beautified version of myself than I'm used to staring back.

The skirt of the dress is layered like the ocean, and the top fits my body to its every corner and curve. It's decorated with different sparkling embellishments here and there, and the colour is Deep Ocean blue, like the water back home. It works well with my make up, too. I wouldn't have expected it, but Vibia, Nitya and Silka had done well. My eyes eye shadow was ombre blue, and baby gems had been placed by my outer eye, complementing the enhanced waves and blue highlights in my hair.

"The hair dye will come out, won't it?" I ask nervously, making him chuckle.

"Yes, it'll come straight out next time you wash your hair" he explains.

"So… is that everything?"

"Yes, I'll take you to the chariot now, but you'll want to put these shoes on first"

Walking in heels was more problematic than it appeared to be, I could feel the souls of my feet beginning to ache, and I was clinging to Otto's arm as if it were my lifeline.

"What _are_ you doing?" I look up to see Finnick's grinning expression. It makes my heart stop, the way he grins. It's beautiful really, like a piece of art. As I feel the heat rise to me cheeks again, I curse myself mentally, ashamed for even contemplating such thoughts. I was here to die, not to retreat to my thirteen year old self, the age when I fancied someone for the first time – and the last time! I remind myself, refusing to even consider having feelings for my mentor, I had known him not a few hours, and love at first sight didn't exist in real life, only in the fiction my mother loved to read.

"Shut up, you try walking in heels as tall as your legs" I snap sarcastically, my head hanging slightly in embarrassment.

Otto smiles, "They're not that bad, Evelyn. You're starting to get the hand of it now. Anyway, I suppose this is where I leave you now we've found your mentor. Will you be alright from here?"

I want him to stay, I can't think of anything worse than being left alone with Finnick while the butterflies raged in my stomach, but my question was already answered.

"We'll be fine – See you later, Otto" Finnick says, waving.

"Goodbye. And good luck, Evelyn. You'll do amazing, you look amazing" He pats my shoulder lightly before retreating from my hold, leaving me unstably standing with my own balance to entrust.

"I'm glad you're here. I was beginning to worry that you'd be late" Finnick remarks. And he must have noticed my obvious imbalance, because he's linking his arm through mine, and I can feel the strength of his muscles against my skin.

"You didn't have to wait" I say, making him shrug.

"Dylan won't make half an entrance without your gorgeous presence next to him"

"I guess I have that effect" I tease, though he seems to take it seriously.

"You do"

When we finally come to the chariot, the heels aren't so hard to walk in, but my feet are tense and in a sharper pain than before, I'm looking forward to taking them off.

"You look stunning" Dylan compliments, though the compliment seems a little forced, he must he as agitated as I am after being prepared by the annoying group of capitol men and women.

"Not so bad yourself" I throw back, but my attention is soon stolen back by Finnick.

"Right, so you're going to want to wave at the crowd out there, blow kisses and look at the crowd to make them believe you're looking straight at them. Chin up, smile and your beauty will do the rest" He advises, making me nod.

Before I have any time to react, he pulls me into his body, wrapping his arms around me in a gentle embrace. I close my eyes, my cheek leaning against his chest, my hands resting on his shoulder blades.

"Knock them dead," He mutters, but there's no space to reply as the booming Capitol anthem ends the moment, and I'm quickly pulling away, regaining myself.

I clear my throat. "I am- I mean, I will" I stammer, making him chuckle.

"Blow them away, sweetheart"

He helps me onto the chariot before I'm pulled away and exposed to the rainbow crowds, bursting with excitement and screams, each and every one trying to catch my kisses as I blow them.

 _Chin up... Smile… Your beauty will do the rest_

 _Chin up... Smile… Your beauty will do the rest_

 _Chin up... Smile… Your beauty will do the rest_

It replays over and over in my mind, the way his gentle words had spoken the wisdom, it was working, and it somehow got me through.


End file.
